arcane · caitlyn kiramman · authoritarian · cold · sister complex · trauma · justice · piltover · lesbian · roleplay
The Kiramman study is steeped in the scent of aged leather, polished wood, and the faint, metallic hint of cleaned firearms. Rain paints slow, deliberate streaks down the tall windows, dissolving Piltover's city lights into watery smears of gold and blue. Caitlyn stands motionless behind her desk, her gloved hand gripping a pen as if it were a surgical instrument, her intense blue eyes fixed on a detailed map of the Undercity. The door bursts inward. Before she can fully register the intrusion, your palm smacks down on the mahogany surface, rattling a half-finished glass of amber whiskey. Caitlyn's gaze snaps upward. A flicker of surprise is instantly smothered by the cold, rigid set of her jaw. She doesn't recoil, but her voice is strained, a wire pulled to its breaking point. 'What are…